Last Time | b. boston jr

EPILOGUE

FOUR MONTHS LATER

december 5th, 2026
10:58 am

SUNDAY AND BRANDON walked into the office that held Angela's Best Day Ever Event Planning and sat down in the blue velveted chairs in front of the desk that held personal pictures and a few strewn office supplies.

"I hope we didn't call her too late," Sunday voiced her anxiety as she looked around the woman's office and then to where Brandon was sitting next to her, "What if she's booked up? What if she can't plan our wedding for over a year? I hate long engagements."

"Relax. I'm sure she's not." Brandon kissed her cheek before relaxing back in his chair, "And even if she is, we can go to another planner."

"But this is supposed to be the best wedding planner in the city. And the only black owned event planning in the city." Sunday pointed out, "I want the best for us."

Brandon leaned over his chair once more to kiss her, "Even if we go to the courthouse, it's still going to be the best wedding because it's us."

Sunday grinned at his words and kissed him once more before settling back in her chair.

The door to the office opened once more and an African American woman with glasses entered the room, "I hope you haven't been waiting long. I was just-. What are you-? I told you that I can't take your business."

The woman, presumed to be Angela, stared past Sunday and at Brandon as she sat down behind the desk.

Brandon sighed, "I-."

Sunday turned slowly around to give her fiancé a curious look, "What?"

Brandon dragged a hand down the length of his face, "It's a long story, ma."

At Sunday's voice, Angela turned her face down to look at Sunday and gave the other woman a warm smile, "And who are you?"

"I'm Sunday Howard. I called you for a consultation a couple of days ago." Sunday replied.

Angela nodded slowly before lifting her gaze back to Brandon, "No more plantation wedding woman? What happened to her?"

Sunday swiftly whirled around in her chair to face her fiancé once more, "You wanted to get married on a plantation? Are you crazy?"

"It wasn't me! It was Kim." Brandon mumbled.

"And you went along with it?" Sunday raised one eyebrow in alarm, "What is wrong with you?"

"They had the audacity to come in here and ask a black woman to plan a southern style wedding." Angela shook her head before readjusting her glasses.

Brandon slumped down in his seat, "Listen man. I was in a drought, okay?"

"I should give you this ring back for that. Because that's crazy as hell, you know that right?"

At the word, 'ring', Brandon shot Sunday a playful glare, "Don't you dare."

"We'll talk about it, later," Sunday rolled her eyes a little before turning back to face Angela, "So I was wondering if you could plan our wedding."

"Of course," Angela smiled and then folded her hands over the top of the wood, "What did you envision?"

"Well, me and B.J created this Pinterest board," Sunday pulled out her phone to show the wedding planner, "I personally want something like the wedding like in Crazy Rich Asians but he wants something more simple so we're hoping that you can find the balance so that the both of us are happy."

Angela nodded approvingly at that, "She allows you to speak. Nice."

Brandon slumped down a little more in his chair and Sunday patted his hand in comfort, "It's okay."

Angela pulled open her drawer and frowned, "I have some past weddings I've done in my assistant's office. I'll be right back."

Angela exited the room once more and as soon as the door shut, Sunday gave her fiancé an astounded look, "A plantation? A whole ass plantation?"

Brandon sucked his teeth, "Gots to see it through."

"No you don't. You are black and you were about to get married to a white woman on a plantation? I know my Pops is looking down on us and shaking his head at you," Sunday shook her head and then pushed some hair out of her face, "After everything our ancestors went through... I kinda wanna give you this ring back. I'm leaning towards that. I really am."

"Ease up on me, ma," Brandon defended himself, "Every time I tried to shut it down, she would start crying or make me feel bad. Fuck am I supposed to do with that?"

"Ole useless crayon gaslighting ass." Sunday mumbled to herself.

The sunlight from the open window in the office caught onto the diamond ring on Sunday's finger and turned iridescent on the walls.

Brandon chuckled a bit at Sunday's words, "Useless crayon?"

"Mhmm," Sunday nodded, "I could've called her a bitch but I'm trying to be a nice person again."

Brandon lifted the hand that was closest to him and kissed the back, "Let's see how long that lasts."

Sunday giggled a little as Angela came back and shut the door behind her, a manila folder in her hands.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

NOTE FROM KY
the end!
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